


with a little help from my friends

by weatheredlaw



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Gen, Makeup, Scars, Self Confidence Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-14
Updated: 2018-07-14
Packaged: 2019-06-10 10:04:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15289140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weatheredlaw/pseuds/weatheredlaw
Summary: Wash has sacrificed a lot - blood, sanity, years of his life.Hasn't heearneda little vanity?





	with a little help from my friends

**Author's Note:**

> based on [this](http://powerfulpomegranate.tumblr.com/post/175847925945/aghdjfjf-asking-again-cuz-i-had-my-wifi-off-the) and [this](https://weatheredlaw.tumblr.com/post/175884472224/powerfulpomegranate-k-that-was-cute-i-had-to). I just had to, I loved these so much. Also this is the shortest thing I've written in ages.

Wash doesn’t go a lot of places out of armor. It’s just habit. He’d blame the project, but North and York used to wander around the ship in civvies and it always made him uneasy, made him feel like they were asking for trouble.

Chorus _should_ make him nervous, but now that the fighting is over, New Armonia is a place that Wash knows is designed to put him at ease.

It doesn’t, but he knows they’re trying.

He does take his meals out of armor, which he considers a pretty big step. He occasionally attends meetings in fatigues. The UNSC sent him his old uniform, which he was asked to wear at an official ceremony honoring the Captains and the rest of the Reds and Blues. Tucker still hasn’t let him live it down.

The guys and Kaikaina go out a couple times a week. They always ask him to come and Wash always says no. He’s been slowly getting through an old sci-fi series he read in high school, or he’s training with Carolina, or he’s going to bed early, or he’s going to bed early but he’s actually going to lay awake until he hears them come back, tipsy and laughing, shushing one another as they pass his room.

It’s stupid, the reason he doesn’t want to go. He feels _ridiculous._ But there are just some things he doesn’t want to talk about, some things he doesn’t want to deal with.

He knows that his appearance is...jarring, to some, when he’s out of armor. The Reds and Blues don’t pay any attention. They’re as scraped up and scarred as Wash is. It doesn’t bother them.

It bothers Wash. He’s allowed some vanity, after all this time. Right? He’s allowed to want to stay in because the scars that criss-cross his face and neck are unsettling to some, nauseating to others. He’s allowed to keep to himself, to read a book on the balcony and watch the cranes carry steel beams for apartment buildings just before the sun goes down. He’s allowed these things, because he has worked for them.

A little voice reminds him, though, that he is allowed a night out, because he has earned it, because he has sacrificed for it, because he has _fought_ for it.

But screw that.

 

* * *

 

Kai knocks on his door one Saturday, a weathered little black bag in her hand. Wash stares at her for a moment — they don’t have a lot of interaction, but she’s never _mean_ and Wash just doesn’t really know what to say to her. She’s very young, a little vulgar for his tastes, but she’s solid and she loves her brother.

Wash misses his sisters. A lot.

“So you’re going out with us,” she says, and pushes past him.

“...I’m what?”

“I hate repeating shit, so don’t ask rhetorical _what_ questions when you fucking know what I said.” She points to his desk chair. Wash sits down. He is tall enough and she is short enough that they’re almost at eye level with one another. She sets the bag down on his desk and unzips it, pulling out a package of foundation sponges and couple different shades of liquid makeup.

Wash used to watch his older sisters get ready for dances and dates. He’d lay on his back on his sister Mona’s bed and look at her upside down while she put on lip liner and mascara, or tweezed her brows.

“I know why you don’t go out with us,” Kai says. “And I know how to fix it.”

“I’d really rather stay in. I’m almost done with—”

“No more nerd books. Read them on your own time.”

“...I _am._ ”

“Nuh-uh,” she says, and tears open the package. “You’re on _my_ time now, cop.” She opens a few of the foundation bottles and takes his hand. “I went to the drugstore, which isn’t where I’d usually go, but this is an emergency, so it’ll have to do.” She dabs a bit of each, trying to match his skin tone. “Alright. Let’s do this.”

Wash huffs. “There isn’t enough foundation in the world for this mess,” he mutters.

Kai pulls back. “You think you’re some kind of freak, don’t you?”

“...I—”

“You’re not.” She takes a makeup wipe and starts cleaning his face. “You’re a little vain, like _literally_ everyone else, and you don’t want people to focus on your scars. That’s cool. I cover mine up, too.”

“...You do?”

“Uh, yeah?” She taps her cheek. “Got one here, there’s one on my arm I can’t stand, I’ve had one on my inner thigh for _forever_.” She shrugs. “It’s okay. I cover Donut’s, too.” She tosses the wipe before reaching into her bag for a bottle of primer. “Now just relax, because I’m about to make you _ten_ times as fuckable as you already are.”

“Okay.” Wash frowns. “Wait, what?”

 

* * *

 

She works on him for half an hour, mixing and blending, chatting idly about growing up on the island, about stealing from Sephora when she was in middle school, about some band that broke up while she was in Blood Gulch and how she’s super pissed she didn’t get to live tweet about it.

Eventually, she pulls back and grins. “ _Awesome._ You look fucking hot. I mean you were hot before, don’t get me wrong. But I think you’re gonna be super into yourself.” She hands him a mirror. “Check it.”

Wash takes a second before looking at his reflection.

He recognizes the guy looking back at him, but it’s been a while since they’ve seen one another.

“...Wow.”

Kai grins. “I know, right?”

“...Kai, you...you made me look like. Twenty years younger.”

“I totally did! I mean, I’m usually using my makeup to make me look older, so. It’s good to know it works, like. In reverse.”

“Yeah…”

Kai zips up her bag. “Alright. You’re going out with us.”

“Oh. Oh I don’t—”

“You have to. I didn’t do all that fucking work so you could stay in and read about space. Why do you want to read about _space._ You’re a fucking space marine. God.” She grabs her bag and heads out.

Wash sits in his chair for a while before going to his little dresser and pulling out something to wear.

 

* * *

 

“ _Wash is in jeans!_ ”

“Yes, Tucker.”

“ _He’s wearing makeup and he’s in jeans!_ ”

“I am.”

Caboose leans down and wraps him in a hug. “That is a very nice shirt on you, Agent Washington.”

“Thanks, Caboose. You look good, too.”

“Kai helped me get ready,” he says and grins at her.

Kai looks pretty pleased with herself. She goes to Wash and looks him up and down. “You clean up nice, dude.”

“Damn right he does.” Tucker throws an arm around Wash and grins. “This is gonna be _sick._ Caboose, take our picture.”

“Okay!”

Grif shouts from the door, “ _Let’s go!_ I’m fucking hungry.”

Simmons huffs, “Big surprise there.” Donut cackles.

Kai nudges him with her shoulder. “You okay?”

“I am.”

“Alright _cool._ I’m not doing that again, though. You gotta do it yourself next time.” She punches his shoulder and runs up to walk next to Caboose and her brother, while Wash falls back with Tucker.

“What about you?” he asks. “Did she—”

“All my scars are waist level, man. Well, and arm level.” Tucker pulls up his sleeve, reveals the mottled skin of his forearm. “I’m good, though. And I’m glad you’re getting out. You gotta stop asking for weird books from requisitions, man. Seriously. Watch TV. Go to a bar. Fuck, come watch Caboose bench press _jeeps_ , it’s like the funnest shit.”

“Funnest?”

“I am not fucking doing this with you,” Tucker says, and gives him a shove. “But dude, seriously. I’m really glad you’re here.”

Wash nods. “Yeah. Me, too.”

 

* * *

 

He’d suggested they go find Carolina, but Donut told him they’d already gone looking for her. “Nowhere to be found,” he’d said mysteriously.

Of course Wash finds her immediately. She’s sitting at the bar with Kimball, wearing a leather jacket and her hair down.

Wash hasn’t seen Carolina with her hair down in ten years.

Tucker pulls on his shirt. “Holy shit. Are they on a _date?_ ”

Carolina fixes Wash with a look and he angles the group to a corner. “Let’s...leave them alone.”

“You know, Dr. Grey and Sarge come here,” Doc says. “On dates.”

“Ugh, _gross._ ” Grif grabs a menu. “I _do not_ want to think about Sarge making out with anyone.”

“Come on,” Tucker teases. “Two old people—”

“Dr. Grey isn’t _old_ ,” Simmons says. “She’s...older.”

“I think she is very pretty,” Caboose says. “...And scary.”

Kai pats his arm. “Alright, round of beers, and then we get something bright blue with an umbrella in it for Wash.”

Wash nods. “I like that idea.”

“ _Fucking party animal!_ ” Tucker crows. “I _knew_ it!”

 

* * *

 

They bar hop a few times. Around midnight, Wash goes into a men’s room and looks at his reflection. He’s mostly covered, still, but he can see where it’s starting to fade along his jaw, or where Caboose pressed his entire cheek against Wash’s own.

The door swings open and Kai steps in, digging through her bag.

“Kaikaina, this is the men’s room.”

“Bold of you to assume I give any fucks about that.” She pulls out a little pouch and hands him a makeup wipe. “Here.”

“...What?”

“It’s kind of bugging you, isn’t it?”

Wash shrugs. “A little.”

“Wipe it off, if you want. It was enough to get you out here, to get you spending time with people who fucking _care_ about you. When you’re upstairs, Tucker acts like a little shit. Caboose thinks about if you’re lonely. Even _Grif_ was all weird about it last time. These guys _love you_. They want you to be happy.” She steps closer. “Look, it sucks to have scars. And if you want to leave that stuff on, then leave it. But I didn’t do it so you wouldn’t be able to see them. I did it so you’d come out of your lame turtle shell. Okay?”

Wash stares at the wipe. Someone walks in and looks at them, confused, before going to a urinal.

“You really aren’t uncomfortable in here are you?”

“Not even a little.”

Wash sighs. “I’d like to be more comfortable with...everything.”

“Then do it. Easier said than done, I know.” She hands him a second wipe and walks out of the bathroom.

Wash turns back to the mirror and carefully cleans his face.

When he goes back, it takes Tucker a good twenty minutes to realizes the makeup is gone.

“You’re cool then?”

“I just...needed a boost.”

“Oh!” Caboose leans forward, almost knocking over every drink on the table. “I am very good at those. Would you like a boost, Agent Washington?”

“Sure, Caboose.”

Caboose grins. “Okay! You are a very good friend, and a very brave soldier. Sometimes, also, you are mean, which is not always a bad thing.” He nods, pleased with himself. “Was that a good boost?”

“Yes, Caboose. It was a very good boost.”

 

* * *

 

He finds a little bag of his own outside his door one morning, with a note that reads, “ _In case you need a little help._ ” It’s full of the foundations and primer Kai used, with a little bag of sponges. Wash sets it on the bathroom counter, tucks the note away in one of his books.

Sometimes, he needs the boost. The confidence comes and goes. There are days when he’s okay with the way he looks, and there are days when he’d rather not see the past. He sometimes misses that guy in the mirror, so he pays him a visit every so often, and likes what he sees.

It was never about the makeup, or the scars. He knows that now. It has always been about the kind of person he sees in himself. And he’s a person who’s won a lot of battles, lost a lot of ground, bled a lot at the expense of others. He was, for the longest time, just a carefully held together version of himself, who was just a version of someone else.

Now, he’s free.

And he has been, for a while. Since he threw his lot in with the worst soldiers in the universe, since he forgave himself, forgave Epsilon and everyone else.

So sometimes he needs a little help to get out there.

Wash looks at his reflection and laughs.

Hasn’t he earned a little vanity?

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr @ weatheredlaw


End file.
